Okay, quick chapter for you! Wanted to get it up earlier but had no time yesterday.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

LJP: You got it! ;-) This isn't going to be a super long story. This puts us between 1/5-1/4 of the way there.

Just a reader: Lunian is stewing over the emotions she can pick up from others.

Animir: Well, you're the second person to mention that, but I couldn't find any dialog that wasn't fairly self-evident... which isn't really saying much, as I could easily have not noticed any problems simply because I know who was speaking when. I think the only slightly off part I found was when Legolas comes in and kissed Lunian, telling her her mother is nosy. But still...

Alexis: Yup, she is still too immature, and the main of this story is her growing up and Glorfindel handling his own issues.

Chapter 4 She won't last

Ethwan and Alothie were standing front to back, both curled around the bow as Ethwan tried to teach her how to shoot.

Carathwan shook her head but returned to the book of Imladris architecture she'd been reading.

"Finally found something you find interesting?"

She smiled faintly, and shrugged. "It's alright. A bit dry, but the pictures make up for it."

"The pictures?" he asked, a drawling tone that made her look up at him.

She sighed, shaking her head. "It's a book on the buildings of Imladris, Findy," she sneered.

His eyes hardened. "We could go back to Lord Glorfindel," he warned, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

She exhaled just short of a snort, and pointedly turned back to her book.

"He seems—"

She sighed in exasperation, looking up at him.

He blinked at her. "What?"

"I was trying to ignore you."

"And I was trying to comment that he actually seems interested."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "She won't last."

"Why are you so sure?" he asked, head tilted slightly in curiosity.

"As Lunian could tell you, he's too much of a flirt, like Elladan. She's too shy for him."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Right now she's interesting to him. He'll draw her out a bit, get to know her, perhaps bed her, then move on."

"Spoken calmly," he observed, eyes narrowed slightly.

She snorted, shaking her head. "I have two brothers, Lord Glorfindel," she countered, lifting her chin. "Do you think they won't look after me?"

"I think that they can't always watch you."

"No," she agreed. "But I no more intend to sneak in shadows, should I become interested in someone, than they do. They will have time aplenty to express their dislike or mistrust of any elf who approaches me."

"And you would listen?"

She laughed softly, glancing up at the sky. "I'd listen, certainly," she agreed, still grinning.

"But it wouldn't make a difference, would it?"

"Oh, it would," she assured him, glancing back at him as he sat facing her. "But it wouldn't make me stop learning more about the elf in question, though it might taint my interest with caution."

After a moment of watching her, he inclined his head slightly. "Perhaps wise."

"As wise as any child can be?" she asked, lifting a defiant brow.

His bright eyes searched her grey ones for a moment before shrugging. "There are times when you are a child, and others in which you seem as adult as your years would claim."

She snorted. "Which, in your opinion, is still practically a child."

He sighed, laying down, hands under his head. He closed his eyes against the sun. "Maturity is not given by years, Carathwan. Lunian was an adult when Imladris traveled West—long since, by mortal time."

"But…"

"But she was not even of thirty springs?" he suggested softly. "It matters not. She grew up in a world of dangers, of trouble, of pain, and had to mature more quickly. Though, truly, had Legolas not fallen in love with her she might have taken it a little more slowly. As it was, it was nearly dizzying—one month a carefree child, the next an old woman looking through youthful eyes." He sighed, shaking his head slightly.

"Were you close to her?"

He cracked an eye open and glanced at her before returning to his previous position. "I've been close to few people since my death, Carathwan. She got closer than most, yes. It was simply her nature. Her enthusiasm, her human lust to know all she could before she died, her elven insights into others and the world around her… I knew her for fewer years than I did Estel, but cared more for that half-human child than the human King."

"And the elven child?"

"Is not mine," he answered softly.

"Not what I asked."

He smiled faintly. "She was never mine. Never really anyone's, except Legolas's, from the moment of her birth, though she was given time with her parents. Somewhere in her mind she knew that, and managed to keep from forming attachments in her earlier years that could make him jealous."

"Tanthien?"

"In her earlier years," he repeated.

She bit her lip to hide a smile. "So she wasn't as close to you this time?"

"She remembers far too much for me to say that," he countered softly. A shadow of something passed over his face, gone before she could identify it. "So… how long do you think she'll last?"

"A few weeks, maybe a month or two…"

"But?"

She smiled. "But I'd be interested if Irithil took a good look at her."

"Why?"

She laughed softly. "He's mostly bluster, you know."

"I've only noticed him with Lunian."

"Yes," she chuckled. "They've been playing that for years. Irithil managed to convince himself he loved her more than he does for a brief time… mostly because she was safe, someone who knew him well enough to know that he isn't what he makes himself out to be."

"Does she?"

Carathwan tilted her head. "She does now, at least. I can't really speak for a few years ago."

He smiled faintly. "So you noticed her grow up."

"I noticed her age, Lord Glorfindel. She grew a hundred years older almost overnight."

"No, Carathwan. She matured. There is a great difference."

She rolled her eyes. "Not as we're using the terms."

He chuckled softly, a faint smile touching his lips. "Perhaps you're right."

Carathwan laid the book aside, and watched her brother for a little while. "Are Legolas and Lunian entering the Ancient's Trials again?"

He snorted with laughter at the name. "They are, Carathwan, called the 'Trials of the Tried Warriors.' Not the Ancient's Trials."

"Well, it's the same thing, isn't it? No one can enter unless they were a fighter on the other shore… or fought in the kin-slayings here," she added, though quietly.

He flinched slightly at the reference, too, knowing as she did those elves only rarely entered, and usually so some younger elf who wanted to fight could do so as their student. "Yes," he agreed, a bit huskily.

"So… are they?"

He smiled slightly. "Haldir has already said he will fight, so Legolas and Lunian are as well, yes."

She looked at him for a long moment. "Are you going to enter?"

He shrugged slightly. "Probably. If not, I'll certainly be there, as the last trials were such a disaster."

"They weren't so bad. Legolas almost won."

"And ended up unable to use his arm for a week, instead."

"It got Tanthien away from Lunian, though."

He half-smiled. "I'm sure Legolas felt it worth the physical injury," he murmured, snorting softly.

She tilted her head.

"What?" he asked, opening one eye.

"I can't always tell when you're serious or not."

A slightly sad smile touched his lips. "I was, in that case. When in such emotional anguish, physical pain is not only easier to deal with, it can be almost a relief. It overshadows the other pain for a short time. For Legolas, it also managed to serve another purpose, as you said, which no doubt made it much more endurable." He snorted. "Besides, Legolas was used to being injured."

"What? Why would he be?"

"He was the only son of the King in a kingdom of wood-elves. He played alone as a child much of the time, in the wood."

"But that's…"

"Dangerous. Thus, injuries."

"Then how… how did he survive to be an adult?"

"He learned archery, swordplay, stealth. He walks so quietly out of habit, not natural gift, Carathwan."

"And you?"

He snorted, smiling faintly. "If I match him, it is mostly gift, as I grew up in far nicer times. Once there were orcs running around, I did try to be more quiet."

"Then why put bells on your horse?" she asked dryly.

He laughed softly. "Decoration… which tended to warn them away from me," he added, eyes hardening. "They knew of me, and fled, most of the time. An imminently preferable option, much of the time."

"How could a few orcs stand against the Balrog-slayer, after all?" she asked flippantly.

He shivered slightly.

"Lord Glorfindel?"

"I was merely joking, Carathwan. As long as you don't call me Findy, you needn't use my title."

She frowned slightly, but nodded. She watched him for a while, but he didn't stir, didn't speak, so she slowly reached for her book once more.